


When Frisk Met Papyrus

by LEGBOT (alienenby)



Series: Flowershop Frisk [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Ambiguous-Gender Frisk, Bullying, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Minor Injuries, flowershop au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:45:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienenby/pseuds/LEGBOT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini fic about how Frisk came to meet Papyrus (and the start of their friendship).</p><p>Set waaAAA AAaa a aa y before "Flowey the Flower"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> frisk is like 8  
> papyrus is like 8 or 9  
> undyne is 10

You gasp quietly as your palms are skinned by the asphalt pathway below you. You look up at the two boys standing over you – the one who shoved you and the one who laughed loudest.

They call you terrible things. You don’t defend yourself. You don’t want to fight. You don’t want to argue.

“Hey, reta-“

“HEY! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, PICKING ON SOMEONE SMALLER THAN YOU?” a voice shouts, effectively drowning the boy out. A girl – probably a couple years older than you – comes shrieking onto the scene. Literally. The bullies cry out in what you assume to be fear, and take off. The girl chases after them, and another boy you didn’t notice at first offers you a hand.

“Hi! I’m Papyrus! Are you okay?” he – Papyrus, apparently – is just as loud as that girl, but thankfully without the ungodly screeching quality.

You reach out to take his extended hand, but recoil when your scrapes are touched, hissing at the sting. Papyrus doesn’t miss a beat, however, and gingerly takes you by your wrists and lifts you to your feet.

“Your palms are scraped up pretty bad, huh?” Papyrus muses, giving a sympathetic look to your bleeding palms. “Here, let me take you to the nurse,” he offers, taking you across the playground before you can answer.

 

You get bullied a lot on the playground.

 

But today, you met somebody nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ i wrote this instead of a speech for class lmao


	2. When Frisk Met Sans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk's first sleepover, and their first time at Papyrus's.

“Have fun, my child,” Toriel says, hugging you in front of the door of Sans and Papyrus’s house. You hug her back tightly, whispering a goodbye in her ear. “Do not hesitate to call if you need anything, alright?” she reminds you before standing and walking back to the car. She waves goodbye once more, and you return it, watching her drive away before you turn to let yourself into the house. You lock it back behind you, knowing it was only unlocked to let you in. You hear footsteps thudding through the house before you can even call out.

“Hello, Frisk!” Papyrus greets you as he swings around the doorway into the entryway. You give him a shy smile, still not used to his friendliness or his…energy. He takes your hand, all-but dragging you into the living room. “This is my older brother, Sans! Sans, this is Frisk!” he introduces, gesturing to the boy in question. Said boy, Sans, appears to be a few years older than you and Papyrus. Probably in high school, even. He looks at you over the arm of the couch with one eye closed and a lazy grin.

“Hey, kiddo. So you’re the new friend Pap’s been goin’ on about?” he asks, and you hesitate before giving a slow nod. He chuckles knowingly. “Nice to meet ya, kiddo,” he says, and you nod at him with a smile, and he turns back to the TV (which has a program on it about…something you definitely can’t understand). Papyrus beams at you before dragging you across the room and up the stairs. He stops in front of a door with assorted signs and stickers on it.

(The most noticeable ones read “No girls allowed!” “No boys allowed!” “Only Papyrus allowed!”.)

You point to them and raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, only Papyrus and certain people given my approval allowed!” he says, before opening the door and ushering you inside. His room is meticulously clean and…he has a race car bed. Interesting. “Welcome to my room!” he almost-yells, moving to the middle of the room and throwing his arms wide as he does. You can’t help but crack a grin at his enthusiasm. He seems pleased. “Make yourself at home!” he tells you, before going over to what you assume is his closet and searching through it.

You sit on his bed, your little overnight bag by your feet, and look around. He has a huge pirate flag spanning a quarter of the far wall, a table covered in action figures, and a bookshelf full of puzzle books and bedtime stories. A huge, flame-print rug takes up a majority of the floor space, which is otherwise grey-blue carpet. He even has his own computer on a desk in the corner. Lucky. He also has a box of…bones? By the door. You can’t help but wonder what those are about. Your attention is pulled back to him when he giggles excitedly, setting a board game in the middle of the floor. He grins at you, and you grin back, sliding into the floor to play his game.

 

 

You…should not be awake. You blearily open your eyes, staring at a dark, unfamiliar ceiling. You almost panic, but Papyrus’s snores beside you remind you where you are. You reach out, feeling along the action figure table for Papyrus’s discarded watch. You press the little button that lights up the face, letting out a tiny groan at the time. Three am? What nine-year-old wakes up at three am? You sigh, setting down the watch and rubbing your scratchy throat. You suppose you should at least get some water or something, since you’re awake. You remove yourself from the bed as slowly and quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb your bedmate. Assured that Papyrus wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, you ease the door open and slip out of the room.

The hallway is dark, but you can hear the TV in the living room. Did Sans fall asleep on the couch? Papyrus said his dad won’t be back for a few more weeks yet, so you doubt their dad would be the cause. You tiptoe down the stairs, peeking around the railing. Sans is on the couch alright, but he seems to be awake. You decide to heck with it, and walk the rest of the way downstairs, and Sans startles out of his apparent trance, looking at you with wide eyes.

From here, you can see him better. His eyes are two different colors. One brown and one blue. Huh. He gives you a tired, strained smile.

“What are you doing up? It’s…late,” he points out, and you nod because, yeah, you know it’s late. You follow up your nod with a shrug, hoping to convey what you mean. His smile drops on one side. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks. You shrug. He picks up a half-empty bottle of Gatorade, holding it out to you. “Want a drink?” he offers, and you consider the potential issues of sharing a drink with an almost-stranger, but it’s late, and you’re still tired, so you walk over to the couch and take it. You sip some, and it helps your throat. You settle on the couch next to him, and he eyes you warily. He seems to deem you as Not A Threat (what kind of threat could you be anyway? You’re nine), and relaxes a little. He also takes the Gatorade back from you, taking a drink for himself. The two of you sit in silence for several minutes, the only noise being the comedy show on TV.

“You know, you’re probably too young to be watching this,” he muses, and you give him an _oh really_ sort of look because he’s only a few years older than you, so he’s probably too young to be watching this, too. “Don’t give me that look, I know how old I am,” he huffs, and you raise an eyebrow. “I’m fourteen. I’m old enough,” he almost-mumbles it, like he doesn’t want to admit how young he actually is. You snort. He’s still got five years on you, what’s he worried about? The two of you sit in silence once more, and you notice him looking at you. You turn your head just a little, acknowledging him. “Do you… Uh, do you ever talk?” he asks hesitantly. You shrug, holding up a hand and teeter-tottering it. He just hums thoughtfully. You bite your lip for a minute, before making a decision.

“I… Don’t talk much around people I don’t know very well,” you admit, quietly. His eyes widen a bit.

He knows what your talking really means. “Have you talked around Papyrus?” he asks, and you can’t say you expected the question, but you nod.

“Sometimes. When I feel like it. When we’re alone.” He lets out a little chuckle at your answer. You raise an eyebrow.

“Good. Kid would be devastated to find out you trust me before him when you’ve only known me…what, less than a day?” You snort, leaning further into the lumpy couch. “Hey, kid,” he says, and you scowl. “You’re a kid to me, shut up. But hey, knock knock.”

You stare at him for a moment, unsure of what he’s doing. “Who’s there?”

“Dishes.”

“… Dishes who?” He cracks a grin that takes up most of his face.

“Dishes a really bad joke,” he finishes, eyes sparkling with mirth and mischief. You sit for a moment, before groaning loudly and wailing at him with the nearest couch cushion. He laughs uproariously at your reaction. “God, you react just like Pap,” he wheezes, still trying to fend off your pillow attacks.

Eventually, your arms tire, and only then do you stop. Sans had given up trying to stop you ages ago, realizing that you don’t hit very hard anyway. He was leaning against the arm of the couch, still chuckling under his breath. You’re panting hard, exhaustion finally setting in. Sans’s amused chuckles subdue into something softer.

“You should go to bed, kid,” he tells you. You mumble a protest under your breath. He leans towards you. “What was that?” You don’t respond, opting to lean on him instead. He jolts at the unexpected contact. “Uh, kid?” he starts to move you off of him, but seems to decide against it, and just leaves you laying against his side, and sighs. “Sweet dreams, kiddo.”

 

 

The next morning, you wake up back in Papyrus’s bed, although with Papyrus not in it. As you get up, you are mortified to find that you had spent a good hour or more talking with Sans last night while wearing Hello Kitty shorts and one of Asriel’s old Sesame Street tank tops. You’re about to dig through your bag for a change of clothes when Papyrus returns.

“Frisk! Good morning! I made breakfast!” he rushes out, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you downstairs before you can change into something more presentable. Sans is sitting at the table with the newspaper, and he raises a brow at your attire before cracking a grin. You scowl at him as Papyrus shoves you into a seat. He sets a plate of scrambled eggs – burnt – in front of you, smiling broadly. He’s visibly proud, and watches you expectantly. You take a bite, forcing your expression to stay polite while you swallow. When you continue eating, he relaxes, and gets a plate for himself. He doesn’t seem to notice that they aren’t that great.

Sans folds up his paper, stuffing it under his arm as though he’s a middle aged businessman, and dismisses himself with a pun that sends Papyrus into a rage. You can’t help but snort. Even with two siblings and two parents, your house is never this lively so early in the day. You wonder vaguely where their dad is. Papyrus had told you that they never had a mom in their lives – that he knows of – but their dad is always off somewhere, working. You wonder if Sans knew their mom.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Papyrus asking when you have to leave. You look at the clock up on the wall. “An hour,” you answer. So it’s not as early as you had thought. Nearly eleven.

… Your house still isn’t this lively until, like, five in the afternoon, though.

You head back to Papyrus’s room to change into one of your (very many) striped tees and a pair of shorts. He calls you back down, where he’s set up a video game on the big tv in the living room. Sans is nowhere to be found. You play Smash Bros. for the hour you have left.

When your mom honks the horn outside, you gather up your stuff and give Papyrus a hug goodbye. Sans mysteriously appears at the door to see you off.

“Come see us again, kiddo,” he says, and you nod as he closes the door behind you. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear while you walk down to your mom’s car. You think you just might.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so dissatisfied with this but???


End file.
